Watching her, Watching me
by Kae-Lae
Summary: Blaise illustrates the stalking tendencies fools have when in love, to Hermione. HGXBZ
1. Chapter 1

Blaise illustrates the stalking tendencies fools have when in love, to Hermione.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns it all, lucky bitch.

Watching her, Watching me.

"Don't you just hate it?"

"Hate what?"

"What that group of girls is discussing."

She looked over to the group of girls sitting two tables down who were talking in whispers to each other.

"How could I possibly know what they are talking about?" She asked rather exasperatedly.

I couldn't help but smile at her annoyance. She has such an interesting and illuminating way of communicating how she felt, at given times. If she was angry, her eyes would narrow and flash dangerously as her jaw would clench together. If she was happy she would simply smile and her eyes would sparkle beautifully. However, when she was annoyed, she would clench and unclench her fists periodically in an attempt to calm herself down. It was usually unsuccessful.

"Would you like me to enlighten you?" I inquire. I couldn't help but smirk as her fists clenched and unclenched violently again.

"I have the vaguest feeling that I am going to have no say in the matter, am I?" She scoffs, "And everyone thinks that you haven't the ability to string more than five words together at one given time." I chuckle her jab at my lack of communication with the majority of the school population.

"That just illustrates further why I talk to a select few, rather than putting myself at risk of losing valuable IQ points, by associating myself with idiots." I explain, smirking as her fists clench and unclench yet again.

"I'm touched that you feel that I am worthy enough to be one of those select few." She says tightly. I simply look at her until she gives me her permission to continue. Staring makes her uncomfortable, and which causes her to yield relatively swiftly. She finally looks up at me from across the desk, with an expression that clearly states that she wants nothing more than to be left alone in piece. I tilt my head in mock confusion.

"Bloody hell, Zabini, spit it out alright, what are they discussing." She hisses at me in frustration. I smirk at her again, knowing that more than anything it'll infuriate her further. The tell-tell signs of anger start to appear, as her eyes narrow.

"Zabini."

"Well if you're quiet, you can hear for yourself." I respond, indifferent to the glare she is currently directing my way.

"Can you believe it, it's just so romantic, I wish it was me."

"I know, to think that he's loved you this long and has waited all these months before acting on it."

"He says that he noticed me towards the end of last year, and was just too much of a coward to do anything about it. He says that he's always liked my smile, my kindness and my sarcasm. He reckons it's a breath of fresh air. He says it was after he saw me with Jake a couple of weeks ago that he realised how much he loved me, isn't that just too cute."

"I know right."

"And to think, I never noticed him much before, but now I feel that I was just denying my feelings for him. I mean, we use to talk sometimes in class but I didn't think much of it at the time. But now, I know that I actually had feelings for him at the time, as well."

"Oh my gosh, really? That really is romantic."

"I think I love him too."

"Awwwww."

I look at her as her face scrunches up into her distinct expression of disgust. I almost laugh, almost. She's shaking her head and I can't help but notice the bush of hair on her head, and marvel, yet again, at how it has not improved in the slightest over the years. Unlike the rest of her. She grew into her body in her fifth year, but I noticed that it was this year that she decided that she wanted to display her changes to the rest of the population.

"So what do you think?" I ask curiously.

She rolls her eyes, and I can tell she is thinking of how to word her reply perfectly. Her eyebrows have knitted together, her distinct signal that she is deep in thought.  
"Utterly ridiculous," she responds. I'm disappointed at such a lack of response.

"How could someone believe such folly,"

Maybe not.

"How can something like a relationship be built upon such, such ....crap?" I raise my eyebrows in shock that she swore.

"So you don't believe that a relationship can be built upon few conversations in passing, and stalking." I ask, careful to be nonchalant and to keep the smirk firmly in place. I can't help but be giddy on the inside at the irony of it all.

"No, I do doubt that they would be the best foundation for a relationship. I mean, how could they possibly know each well enough to be in love?" She is still clenching and unclenching her fists and her voice has acquired a slightly hysterical pitch to it.

"Oh, I'm sure there are plenty of ways that they could know each other well enough to be in love." I suggest with a quirk of my eyebrow.

She clenches her fist again.

"Not what I meant, though I do think you're right, he sounded like he was stalking her."

Now for her to divulge into how a relationship should be built and nurtured.

"Sure I agree that there is degree of watching someone before you make a move, but really, being in love takes a bit more than staring at each other for lengthy intervals."

She clenches and unclenches her fist again in another hopeless attempt to calm herself down; at least her voice has lost the hysterical edge to it. However, I can't help but notice the slight blush creeping up her face. I smirk, at the admission, it was all too easy. And I thought she would be a challenge. A new line of questioning in certainly in order.

"So you're familiar with the stalking tendencies that many adopt before approach the object of their observation. I wonder who the object of such observations is." I query with my smoothest voice. I am bestowed with a nervous reaction for such a question. She is now chewing on her bottom lip, eyes are trained down and her fist continues to clench and unclench.

"I am familiar with no such thing." Her reply is almost believable, except she can't look me in the eye whilst declaring such things. She always was a horrible liar.

"So, to what degree is watching the person you are attracted to, acceptable." I ask slyly, "Is following them throughout Hogsmead, to see who they are going with, a bit too much? Perhaps making sure your seat at your table has nothing to obscure him from your vision."

And she snaps.

"I am not going to sit here, and listen to such nonsense. Good day." And she gathers up the last of her quills and parchment and flees from the library and my queries.

And I can't help but smirk at her retreating form. In fact I almost laugh. She has no ability to control her emotions. Or perhaps my keen observations have made me increasingly aware of what makes her tick.

...

**Authors Note:**

**Hey, so I thought it was odd, after developing a sort of Blaise/Hermione obsession, how many stories of them have Blaise being in love with Hermione for years, and constantly watching her? And then they would both declare their love for each other and live happily ever after. I just thought that Blaise was sort of stalkerish in them plots. So yeah, thats how I got the idea for this story. **

**No idea really where this is going....I'm not really good at stories beyond a one-shot. But I can't leave this one where it is. So I'll trudge on. Lol**

**So Read, Review and Enjoy.**

**KaeLae**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I wish I owned HP, but alas, the brilliance that is JK Rowling does.....bitch.

Watching her, Watching me

Chapter 2

Hermione's thoughts were bouncing and she didn't like it.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it all to hell. I'm such a fool it's not funny. Why did I react? Why couldn't I play the ignorance card, play it cool? Damn my defence mechanisms, for reactions that are suppose to protect me, they don't help my much. I'm saying damn a lot these days." I continued my rant in this direction for quite some time, except inside my head. I was in shock at both the conversation that had just happened and my stark reaction to it. Nothing gives you away like a bad reaction, and I was so sure that my slight obsession with the Italian wasn't obvious. Apparently not. I didn't stalk him or anything. I didn't follow him places, or map down his timetable and purposely go there in the hopes of running into him. No, I wasn't that desperate, nor did I have the time to put in such effort, just to get him to notice me. I just noticed when he was around, and I couldn't help but watch him when he was. He was so, mysterious. He has that who, tall dark mysterious thing going for him. And of course the prettiest eyes ever. Well, second prettiest, Malfoy gets the solid-gold kewpie doll when it comes to beautiful eyes. Pity they're in the face of an ass.

I continued walking, in a direction quite unbeknown to me, and quite unhappy in the continuing thoughts about Zambini passing through my head. I liked Blaise Zambini, a lot. But I couldn't help but think that I only like the idea of him. Of course, this didn't help my predicament, if anything it made it worse. It made me want to get to know him more. It was like I had drawn him from a description, and now I wanted to compare them and see how close I was. I liked him, without knowing what he is really like, when he's away from the pressures of his house, family and friends. I liked him, without knowing whether he was really a good guy, without really knowing anything about him in general. I knew I was a fool to like him at all, knowing that he was a Slytherin and aware that neither Harry nor Ron would be happy about my feelings. But I didn't care, furthermore, I wasn't about to let those two dictate who I could and couldn't like. But alas, I probably will never have to face that problem anytime soon, seeing as I doubt that Blaise would ever like me as anything more than a friend. Pfft, I doubt he sees me more than an acquaintance who he occasionally speaks to, whether to inquire after some help on an assignment, or when he is bored, and wants nothing more than to be entertained, by someone he knows he can get a reaction out of.

I was so engrossed and confused that I decided to do something about my current predicament. No, I wasn't going to go confront him, which would be ludicrous. Could you imagine the uproar? It would be like the apocalypse. The animosity between the houses would be, unfathomable. It's almost tempting just to see the reactions. No, bad idea, Ron would probably die from shock. He still had feelings for me, but had yet to act on them, for which I was thankful. Ron is a great friend, but quite frankly the thought of us together, in that type of way. Well, maybe we shouldn't think about that. Harry and he are like my brothers; my immature, overprotective, ever so annoying brothers, whom I love dearly, most of the time.

I decided to go talk to Ginny, who was sympathetic to my problem, having had feelings for the gorgeous Italian herself not last year. When she told me, I was in shock, I thought she loved Harry. However, her infatuation with the Slytherin didn't last, as Harry finally grew some balls and asked her out, after pining after her for several months. Hypocritical much? So she is the only one I've told about my feelings, she's more receptive then Harry or Ron would ever be. After what they've been through, you'd think they would have grown out of such stupid prejudices, but apparently not. I headed towards the Gryfindor tower knowing I'd find Ginny there.

...................

"Ginny help me...."

"You're such a whiner; the boys don't come even close to your level. In fact I'm sure you've accumulated the status of the master of whiners, with the way you're acting."

She gives me an amused slash exasperated look. I just spent the last twenty minutes explaining what happened, and this is all she can say to me. I don't need an assessment of my whining capabilities. I have spent a hell of a lot of time around Ron to know I have mastered it incredibly well. Instead of pointing this out I reply,

"But he's so annoying to like."

"Oh hush, don't act like I don't know, I know. At least he talks to you. I've never seen him speak to anyone but Nott. Plus, I can't help you with your current problem. You're going to have to figure it out for yourself." Ginny tells me happily.

I can tell she loves this. Hermione bloody Granger, master of all that is bookish slash educational related, who can rationalise nearly anything, is reduced to a bumbling, whiny, hormonal teenager, because of a boy. I can't help but glare, as she relishes my dilemma.

"I love it when you act like a girl, it's such a rare sight to behold."

"Oh do shut up, Gin!"

And she laughs, as she gets up, pats me on the head, like a hapless little dog and skips, yes skips off to find Harry before dinner.

"Devil woman, I bloody swear." I mutter under my breath as I pick myself up off the floor and head down to the Great Hall for dinner. If I get there early enough, I may be able to get a spot that has a clear view of him. Yep, go my stalker skills.

............

Clear view my ass. He wasn't even there.

"Stop looking around like that you fool, you look bloody ridiculous." Ginny hisses to me as I look up at the Slytherin table, swivel my head to look at the door, and then back to my food for maybe the twentieth time, this hour. Well I look and feel ridiculous, apparently. I'm resolved not to look again. I have the will power, to eat this meal without looking around for the missing man. I can do this.

"Hermione!"

"Ok, fine, talk to me, distract me you fool. How was practice?" I cry out, defeated. I'm such an idiot for him and I don't even know him.

"Like you care, and I know what you're doing, and I'm not falling for it." She sends a glare my way and proceeds to turn her back on me as Harry sits down next to her. Traitor, as soon as Harry is around, no one else matters. Okay, so I'm overreacting. I can't help but giggle at myself, and look down at the curious looks being sent my way. Go Hermione, smart, a stalker and crazy, all in one. I feel like I've accomplished so much in my short lifetime. I smile to myself and decide to head to the library once again, after dinner.

**Author Note:**

**Yeah, so this is Chapter 2. Let me know how you like this type of Hermione, whether she's annoying and whatnot. Feel priviledged, I updated. Lol.**

**Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. **

**So yeah,**

**Read, Review and Enjoy.**

**Kat.**


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Pfft, I wish I owned Harry Potter and all characters and such. But I don't.

Watching her, Watching me

Chapter 3

Passive look on my face. Check.

Slightly amused look in my eyes. Check.

Perfect smirk, after seven years of perfecting such trait to symbolise all that is powerful, mysterious and all together Slytherin, in place. Check.

God I'm good, and of course magnificently cocky. In more areas then one. Slight raise of my left eyebrow to compliment such a thought and scene. And not for the first time in many years am I thankful that being in the house of Slytherin perfects the art of keeping most, if not all emotions in check. Why am I thankful, because had the conditioning of the past seven years not taken place, I would be dancing my way down the corridor towards my common room with a goofy, Gryfindor smile painted upon my face and possibly singing as well. That's how happy I am at the moment.

The conversation with Granger could not have gone better. I don't even know why I did it, but she's just way too much fun, not to play around with. I can't help but think it was a bit too forward, but at the same time, I know she won't make the connection between my teasing and me having feelings for her. She may be incredibly smart, brilliant in fact. But that doesn't change the fact that she has biases against all Slytherins and herself. We're all evil, and she thinks that she's too plain to for anyone to be interested. That's why I like her, I think. Yes, me Blaise Zambini, has a thing for everyone's favourite golden girl, Hermione Granger. You spend so long in the background, that your attention is always gained by the most interesting and she certainly falls into that category. Her views, opinions and values just make her....interesting. I mean, who would have stuck by the bumbling twins all these years? Shouldn't the smartest witch of the age realise what a waste of space, well, mainly just one is. Apparently not. Not to mention, she is gorgeous.

I make my way down to the common room, in high spirits, not that anyone walking past could tell. As I enter, I can tell I've walked into the middle of yet another lover spat. I can't help but take a seat and watch the spectacle that is Pansy and Draco going at it.

"Pansy, why can't you take the bloody hint? I'm not going to be used as your bloody bodyguard anymore. It's creepy trying to act like your boyfriend." I can tell Draco is frustrated yet again, nothing makes him angrier than having anything stifle his, er, extra curricula activities. I can't help but chuckle at the situation in front of me, on the inside of course.

"Look, you promised, and it's not as if it's getting in your way. I can keep the creeps away, and you can have the luxury of bedding any girl you want, knowing you're not actually cheating on me. It's a win-win situation. And please don't tell me, that the whole relationship thing gets in the way of your, er, extra curricula activities." Pansy tells him coolly. This whole arrangement is the result of Pansy building herself a reputation of being easy, when she was younger. I can't help but draw the comparison between Pansy and Draco's arrangement and Hermione's situation with dumb and dumber. Of course there's the slight difference with the reasoning behind each situation. On that thought, I get bored with the argument in front of me and head towards the dorms. Nothing like a nap on a Sunday afternoon.

"So, what's got you all happy today? You're dancing on the inside, yet again." I can't help but grin into my pillow as I ponder how to respond to Theo's question. I've been in the room less then five minutes and within that time, Theo feels the need to read me like a book and then use such information for his amusement. How ironic. He's one of my oldest friends, and doesn't really give a crap about the whole keeping up appearances that is the Slytherin lifestyle. Well, when it's only us around he doesn't care. He also knows about my slight infatuation with the Gryfindor.

"Nothing much, just had a pleasant conversation with a certain Gryfindor we all know." I reply nonchalantly. I can almost hear the smirk on his face. Everyone claims that Draco has the pinnacle Slytherin smirk. I can't help but disagree. Sure, Draco has one down pact, but it's not as versatile as Theo's is. He alters it to suit a mood or situation, with such ease; he's almost made art out of it. At the moment, he is wearing an 'all-knowing' smirk. This is a casual replacement for his 'egotistical' smirk, which has gone on a small vacation for the time being. I'm glad I can be of service, to said smirk, it works such long and hard hours.

"What did you do? Nothing too....unslytherin-like, I hope."

"No, of course not, I just pointed out the stalking tendencies that she has employed of late. Of course I forgot to mention, that they were mediocre in comparison to mine, but hey, that's just a minor detail for later."

"Your such a tool." He replies, 'all-knowing' smirk still plastered in place. Maybe I underestimated its stay. We'll upgrade its status to part-time perhaps.

"I know, you know, and yet so few others know. So at the moment, I'm good." And I'm up before he can respond. I think a nap is a bit premature; perhaps a long walk will be of better use.

**Hey ya'll, it's been a while. Be impressed it's still going. Not sure what I'm doing with this story, but I'm liking it all the same.**

**Also, feedback on this type of Blaise would be appreciated.**

**So Read, Review, and Enjoy.**

**Thanks**

**Kat**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Watching her, Watching me

Chapter 4

Calm is the appropriate emotion I'm trying to do here. Serene would do as well. I don't want to look calm or serene, I want the whole bloody package, which includes feeling calm and serene. Not to mention the added bonus of subtly informing all those within a two meter diameter of myself of said mood. Of course with the way this day has been going for me, that is asking for a bit much. I'm thinking there was a mix up with my mood order today. Instead of a complete package of calm and collected, I have received a nervous mood parcel, with an addition of frustration, no extra charge of course. All this has happened because of a certain Italian, who loves nothing more than to annoy me, it appears. Maybe he received an extra batch of boredom with his usual order today. He isn't even sitting at the same table, but I can tell he is here to annoy me. There isn't another person here in the library, but him and me, and that doesn't make me feel any better. Sure, most other teenage girls would be jumping for joy, or at the very least jumping him, at the thought at being alone, in the library with one of the hottest blokes in Hogwarts. And I'm pretty sure I should be one of them. But I'm not, nope, far from it in fact. I'm nervous as all hell, what with the sweaty palms a keen indicator. I'm pretty sure I've read somewhere that the reactions we get when we're nervous, is nature's way of preparing us for our fight or flight reflex. Of course that's not going to help my current situation. I don't know what I'm fighting and running is certainly not an option. Most definitely not.

........................

Why, oh why did I not run when I had the opportunity? Now he's sitting in front of me, at the same table, in the same library, with no one around us. I suppose he thinks that its better no one see us together. Heaven forbid a Slytherin is caught talking to a mudblood.

"Nervous?" he asks, I look up to at least try and read something of his expression, having lost my previous train of thought. A muggle woman with too much Botox would have more of an expression on her face, than he does at the moment. I most certainly am nervous, because his lines of questioning never end well for me, but I'm going to do my hardest not to let him know this.

"Why would I be?" Cool Hermione, keep it cool. I look him in the eyes and try to mimic his facial expression. I'm not too sure how I'm going.

"I don't know why you would be, but your lips are certainly telling me you are." He raises his left eyebrow at me, as he replies. I almost miss what he says; his eyes have a way of distracting a girl. I can't help but cover my mouth with my hands at his reply. But what happens next nearly knocks me out of my chair, apparently there was an express order of shock in my name, and it hit me like a train. He chuckled. The apocalypse must certainly be on its way, because Slytherins don't chuckle. Just like they don't dance down corridors while wearing goofy smiles on their face. This one does however, and I can't help but openly stare. He is clearly amused at my reactions. I've never seen his face so easy to read, I mean, I can even read it, which really says something. I read books, not people. He's incredibly amused, no correct that, he finds me incredibly amusing.

The silence is drawing out and I feel I have to break it. It's all too weird, being able to read his face, I need to break this.

"What about my lips? I don't understand? How can my lips tell you that I'm nervous?" I'm not sure if I should be happy or nervous he's looking at my lips. His eyes are dancing with amusement, dancing I tell you. He looks gorgeous; I wonder what he looks like when he smiles. No that's too assuming. I wonder if he can smile at all.

"You chew your bottom lip when you're nervous, though I'll admit, you're doing a better job of masking it, then you usually do. Usually on top of that habit, you can't look those around you in the eye." Apparently there were two express orders of shock in my name today, and this one doesn't hit me like a train, more like a stampede of buffaloes. I don't stare at him this time though; I look down and close my eyes. This is just a tad surreal. I hear him chuckle again, and move to stand up. My eyes snap open of their own accord and look at him, with surprise. I almost ask what he's doing, leaving me in this state, but I can't as he is currently staring at me intently. He doesn't move, he just looks at me. Under his intense scrutiny I'm proud to say I don't squirm, much. But I feel like it, as he just stands there and stares for like a minute or so. I feel like he's not just looking at me, but he's staring into my soul. Eyes aren't the window to the soul, they're the tools used to look into the souls of others. I'm pretty sure, that Blaise has a perfect set of tools. Finally I can't take it anymore.

"What?" I snap at him, and I break eye contact. I can hear him about to walking away, and I almost regret my words, until I look up. Today is my lucky day, because free of charge, more emotions then I can poke a stick at are currently running through my brain. Today an assumption has been proven wrong.

Today he's smiling.

Today he's smiling, at me.

He smiled at me, nodded his head once and walked away. I feel like someone who's just won the lottery. Only, I'm not that sure of what I've won.

I don't know how long I sat there with a small smile on my own face. No one else comes into the library; it is a Saturday night after all. I sit there and continue to make amends to the picture of Blaise I've drawn in my head and I can't help but think, that it'll only continue to get better.

..........................................

I'm happy. It's odd to think that such a weird encounter would leave me so happy. But it did. It's all working and I don't think much else is going to get in my way. Keep her interested; show her little by little, that underneath all that Slytherin crap, I am a human. Then hopefully by the end of the year I will have Hermione. I exchange the goofy smile for a standard smirk. Would hate for my fellow Slytherins, apart from Theo of course, to realise what I'm up to. I exchange the happy jig that I just performed in an empty corridor for a cocky strut. I would hate for Anyone to witness such a thing. And I make my way towards the kitchens, having missed dinner earlier. I dance on the inside as I reflect on the second conversation I had today with the bushy-haired beauty and the piece of knowledge that she was looking for me earlier at dinner. Theo is good for some things. I think today was rather productive

For a Saturday, cue smirk and scene.

**Hey everyone, are you all as shocked as I am at the quick update. Never fear, I'm in the mood to write and have so much time on my hands it's not all that funny anymore. **

**I need a job, badly. **

**So yes. **

**Shout out to Amrei for being awesome.**

**So Read, Review and Enjoy.**

**Kat**


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Watching her, Watching me

Chapter 5

Oh my gosh, I never thought, in a million years that I'd be wishing that the no homework movement of 1997 had actually succeeded. Ok, so there was no such movement but at this current moment in time, I feel like doing nothing more than burning my bra and shouting down with homework, at the top of my lungs, at every professor in sight. I'm exhausted, hungry, overwhelmed and tired and that's only taking into consideration today's battle wounds. My ongoing war with my homework has left me with battle fatigue and this latest one has left me worse off than ever. Does anyone want to know the funniest thing about all of this? I'm actually doing okay, in comparison with others. All of us went into this with around the same mindset. Sure some thought that oncoming war between the Seventh Years and the NEWTS would never come, cough, Ron and Harry. Some thought that they would be alright, because they were under the impression they could handle anything thrown their way, cough, Terry Boot, cough. Terry, who is currently out by the lake crying his eyes out because he can't handle it anymore, and wanting nothing more than for it to all end, for someone to save him. Then there were those who just didn't care about what was coming, that it would change nothing for them, cough, Blaise Zambini, cough. The worst and best thing about war is that it eventually gets to everyone, and Zambini is no exception. He is handling it, but only just, I can see cracks through his facade in the fleeting glances I get at him, as I'm preparing for the next onslaught. He pays barely any attention to those around him, odd coming from a man who made a hobby out of watching people. I can't believe that his lack of attention on anybody has me worried for his well-being. Well that and the dark rings under his eyes and the pasty look of his skin. It appears as if he hasn't slept or eaten properly in a couple of days. He, like me, is exhausted, hungry, overwhelmed and tired. Why should I be worried about him looking like shit? I should be more worried about my two best friends who are on the verge of dying in this battle. Yes the Boy Who Lived to defeat Lord Voldemort again, is going to lose his war with the NEWTS. He is going to die a tragic death, one where he never gave up, where he died trying to save others from the fate he himself suffered. He tried desperately, along with me, to spare Ron from said fate. But we both knew it was futile. Ron wasn't a man of war, well, academic war anyway.

I can't help but smile, as I make my way down towards the library. It's become a coping mechanism I think, thinking of our current situation as a war. Sometimes we're winning, a lot of the time we're losing and with every loss, there are more causalities. Ok, I really need to stop thinking like that. I've had enough weird looks what with me breaking out into giggles as I imagine Snape and Neville in a battle to end all battles on the Potions Battlefield. Think Troy, with Brad Pitt and Eric Bana. Okay, we're getting off track again. Basically the professors have taken a secret oath to, as one, make sure that everyone gets no chance to sleep, eat, and have fun or doing anything non NEWTS related until the holidays, which start tomorrow. It's getting slightly ridiculous. I mean, I believe that the more homework the better, but even I have limits. See, can't you see. If I've met my limit imagine how everyone else is. It's like my limit is doing 260km/h in a 60km/h zone and everyone else is happy to do the speed limit. Wow, go the muggle references. That's what, two in five minutes? Now, back to the mountains of homework. I may be exhausted, hungry, overwhelmed and tired, but I'm also finished everything. I go into the holidays with nothing but regular study to worry about. Everything that is due in at the beginning of next term is already turned in. Of course there is a problem with being retracted from the front line in time for the holidays. I've left all my friends, those who I've been fighting side by side with, for the past couple of weeks, behind on the front line, on their own. Now I'm not worried in the slightest about whether they're going to be okay. No, I'm worried I'm going to be redrafted as a paramedic for those still fighting. What the hell is with the war references? I shake my head as I reach the library. My line of thought these days has been somewhat distracted and obscured. I decide upon entering the library that what I need is a decent book, with a story about an outspoken, heroine who finds a man who can handle her and together they embark on an adventure of self-discovery. Well, maybe just a book with a good story to take me away from here. But definitely not a war book. Furthermore, I decide that there is no way in hell; I'm staying here to read it. This must be the seventh year's mobile hospital, for the injured for those who are seeking refuge, answers and maybe a way out of the war. I shake my head at yet another war reference and proceed to the muggle literature section, knowing that it will most definitely be empty.

Well I was wrong wasn't I? Not only the section not empty, but it was also filled with Blaise Zambini, I almost walk out completely. Then I remembered why I was there and decide to just ignore him. It's been almost two weeks since our last encounter and I'm nervous about his actions but still comfortable in his presence. I can still see the smile on his face; he's never seemed more beautiful than he did when he smiled at me. However, all that remembering that smile actually achieves, apart from the instantaneous and brief feeling of freedom and happiness, is making me feel insecure and ugly. How can one person be so damningly good looking? You'd think, what with the ongoing battle roaring around me, that I wouldn't have time to dwell on such thoughts. I sigh and head to the closest bookshelf not even sparing him a glance. You'd be wrong of course, during those days when I thought that I'd never make it out alive, these thoughts would creep. Thoughts telling me that no matter how hard I fight, I'll never be good enough for him.

And then I laugh. See this is why I've been trying to stop my mind going into battle mode. How the hell do I explain my sudden outburst and since when have I been so melodramatic. See this is what war does to you, muddles your mind. I laugh again and before I know it I can't stop. I can see him looking at me, his eyes betraying his emotions. Amusement and confusion. I don't blame him in the slightest. I eventually calm down enough to speak and I turn to look at him.

"I'm sorry if I'm being a distraction, I'll go as soon as I find a book to read."

His left eyebrow arches and I turn my back on him. He's finding this way to amusing, I almost curse myself for laughing. If I'd stayed quiet, I could have come and gone without incident. Now I know he's going to talk to me.

"Care to share the joke."

He just can't help himself, even if he's been too busy to engage in his favourite hobby of stalking, he still curious about the behaviour of others. And I'm one of the few, whose actions he questions.

"Not particularly, inside joke type of thing." I glance at him and I realise I've got his full attention. This is not good.

"Even so, I would like to know. It's hard to pin point what actually amuses you. Sarcasm, wit...toilet humour?" I smile at his attempt to engage a conversation. I turn to look at him.

"Toilet humour? Well that's not what I was laughing at today. No, I just realised how melodramatic my thoughts had been of late, and that bad things happen when my thoughts resort to war mode."

"War mode?"

Damn it, my good mood had made me slip more then I wanted. How the hell do I explain to him that I've been thinking of everything going on around me, as a type of war? This was a battle I was sure to lose, what are my retreat options and how can I get out of this one relatively unscathed. Damn it, I'm going it again.

"Yeah war mode," I sigh and sit down and lean against the bookcase opposite him. "For the past couple of weeks I've been thinking of everything going on around me as a type of war. Seventh Years versus the NEWTS."

He just looks at me and raises his left eyebrow again. Two.

"You've named it?"

"Of course, every war has to be named. Though I haven't got to the point of naming every battle."

"Just the important ones?"

I don't answer that one; because of course he's correct. I had named a couple of the battles.

"Come on, tell me. Tell me a name of one of the battles?" He's looking at me with amusement dancing through his eyes again. He really should get that checked out.

"There's one called the Battle of Hogsmeade, Sunday the 17th of December. Casualties include Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, Terry Boot, Neville Longbottom, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and yourself just to name a few. I survived, and managed to make it to Hogsmeade by mid-afternoon."

"Okay? You've really thought this through with detail haven't you?" I don't think I've ever seen him so amused, he looks like he's going to laugh.

And then he does.

I'm shocked to say the least. He's at war, he shouldn't be laughing. Damn it, this type of thinking is why he is laughing.

He finally calms down, but his eyes are no longer amused and dancing, they're laughing instead. I look at him more closely and realise he's not looking to hot. He's battle worn to the max.

"Are you okay?"

I'm not sure if I should be asking him this, or even why, but I don't care, he looks like shit despite the fact he's at the Seventh Years Base Hospital. Maybe he hasn't seen a doctor yet.

"No, then is anybody at the moment?"

"Not if they're here." I reply. Wrong answer apparently cause I realise a second after I've said it, that it won't make sense to him and that I'll have to explain what I meant.  
"This is the Seventh Year Base Hospital."

"In your make believe war?" he questions with amusement laced through his tone.

"Yes." I reply sharply, not like said tone much at all.

"Settle down, I'm not making fun of you, well not in a negative way. I'm thinking that this is just a coping technique. An interesting one, but one none-the-less." He's staring at me again, searching for something that neither of us is aware of just yet. And so we sit, in silence staring at each other. I'm not looking at him to see something that may or may not be there. I'm admiring how well his face just melds together. He truly looks like a Roman God or something equally transcendent. He startles me out of my perv with a question.

"How are you coping? You look a little battle fatigued." I can't help but smile at his jab.

"Tired and hungry but other than that, I'm fine."

"You're fine are you?" I look at him and attempt a neutral expression. I've never really perfected that facial expression.

"Why do I have the feeling you would say your fine, even if you weren't?" he asks me with a smile. I smile indulgently.

"I'm not going to justify that with an answer." I answer and make to stand up.

"So tell me, does your current fatigue have our current study loads to be thankful to, for giving them existence? Or have you been trying to slide in some extra-curriculum activities, which are why you're feeling the stress more so then you usually do?" I look at him again to find that self-assured smirk firmly attached to his face. I sigh again, this really has been a long day.

"Extra-curriculum activities? What are you on about?" I ask wearily, surely I haven't been watching him that much lately? I'm thinking that I'm not going to like his reply. He's staring again.

"I meant to find out if you're willing to admit that you've noticed my lack of observation on those around us. I may not be watching everyone around us; it doesn't mean I've stopped watching you."

I'm dumbfounded and I can't think to even answer. Talking to him is like trying to make your way through a field full of landmines, never sure what your next step will bring you and never sure whether or not it's a good thing or not. Damn war references. He stares at me again and I a sudden urge to know what he's on about.

"What do you mean; you've never stopped watching me?" I ask. He raises his left eyebrow again. Third time's the charm.

He swiftly gathers his belongings and gets to his feet. He stops only to stare again. His eyes are bearing into mine and I can't help but feel bare underneath it. He's saying something, I know it, but it's like listening to enemy codes and being unable to decipher them. They're saying something important but you just don't know what it is. I look away and slowly get to my feet; I think a stroll would do me good, nothing from the library of late has made me feel any better. I look up again and he's still staring but something in his eyes has changed. In two strides he's directly in front of me and has me pinned to the bookshelf behind me, his eyes never straying from mine for a second. Oh crap. Intimidating much? I go to ask what he's doing but the words fail to escape, his lips successfully and permanently cutting off their escape. Before I can respond he's removed them, but they're still dangerously close. It's as if they're waiting for the next batch of escapee words. His eyes still on mine, he smiles.

"For someone smart, you're awfully slow. It's been fun; we should do this again sometime." I've never heard his voice so low and husky, or sexy for that matter. And with that he's gone. Like swish of your cloak gone, or puff of smoke gone.

I'm stunned. There's no place for kisses in war and with that thought I smile. He was reading a muggle book, which means one thing. He's also finished his school work for the holidays; he's been retracted with me. And here I was, thinking that I'd be lonely in my freedom from war this holiday. I smile at the thought and then another thought graces me with its presence. We have nearly two weeks of holidays, at least. He's finished his work and none of his friends have. He's going to be bored and I'm betting I'm going to be his way of alleviating his boredom.

Oh Damn.

....

I've always hated this holiday, well, mainly just the cold weather that comes with it. And at the moment as I make my way towards the dungeons I can't help hate the cold even more. The dungeons are bad enough without the weather adding to it. However, even the cold can't ruin my currently ecstatic mood. I've finished all my work and I'm free to do basically nothing for the holidays. Well not nothing perhaps. I'm thinking I'm going to have a lot of fun with my favourite Gryffindor this holiday. Hermione Granger has no idea what she's in for. I smile a real smile for the second time in as many weeks and can't help but marvel. If this is what she can do to me in a couple of weeks? Imagine a lifetime.

**Holy crap, this chapter is a record for length. Believe me, when I say this is the longest chapter of any story I've ever written. **

**So I've updated, no I didn't forget about the story, I got a job instead. **

**Yay!!**

**Everybody dance!**

**I'm not sure about the chapter? I like it, but at the same time, I feel it's deviated kinda from the feel of the previous chapters, especially Hermione and Blaise. Opinions?**

**I have a vague idea of where it's going, but then again, I never generally know, until I get there. **

**Constructive Criticism is highly appreciated.**

**Reviews are loved.**

**And with that I leave you.**

**So Read, Review and Enjoy!**

**Kat**

**Shouting out to Amrei again!**


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I wished I owned Harry Potter, but alas, I do not.

Watching her, Watching Me

Chapter 6

"Please Hermione?"

"No."

"Please!"

"No, Harry, I'm not going to help you!"

"But Hermione, this isn't fair, you have to!"

"No Harry, contrary to common opinion, I don't have to help you."

"But Hermione,"

"NO!"

"Fine, I'll see you later Hermione."

"Bye Harry."

I'm beyond relieved at this point, as I make a quick getaway from the library. They won't leave me alone, anybody. It's like they've all taken a secret oath, to never leave me on my own. Like, if we have to suffer, she's going to suffer along side of us. I swear I'm regretting not going home for the holidays, at least my days would have been in peace. Not surrounded by nearly everyone in seventh year that I'm on speaking terms with and even those I'm not, constantly asking for help. And the most annoying thing of all is that he hasn't spoken to me once. And it's not like he hasn't had an opportunity. There was yesterday, when we were in the library, in the muggle literature section together. And then there was Monday when I ran into him...literally, outside near the lake. We kind of just stood there looking at each other and then it started raining on us. And I know what we're all thinking, awww, what a perfect opportunity to make some progress. Progress on what, I'm not sure, but progress nonetheless. However, that didn't happen at all; instead we were rudely interrupted by Draco Malfoy, asking what the hell Blaise was doing with me. To say that ruined the mood, would be the understatement of the century.

So now I am currently sitting on the ground in the middle of a random corridor, escaping the annoying masses who are determined to capture me, and extract my brain for their own personal use. I'm getting mighty sick of being used as the resident walking, talking encyclopaedia. But mostly I'm here trying to decide on how to approach the Blaise situation. I mean, he's made most of the moves so far, but I'm just not sure how to make mine. And it's not like I haven't thought about it. Because I have. Way too much. Seriously Ron is getting suspicious at the fact that my thoughts haven't been on my studying lately. Now I'm not neglecting my study, I'm setting time a part each day to address the issue. The thing that is suspicious is that I'm not setting apart the Whole day, for it. Apparently that's not me. Apparently I would otherwise be going all psycho on my studies ass. And apparently that's what I've not been doing. Therefore, there must be something up with me. Where is the logic in that? Well it's all over it, that's where it is. And it sucks. He's in my head all the time. The only time I get peace is when I am studying. Now you'd think that'd be the answer, study all the time. But it doesn't work. I only stop thinking about it for a certain amount of time per day. And any other time of the day is fair game. Therefore my studying is less, but it is extremely efficient.

Back to me and my corridor. I'm still thinking about how I'm suppose to make a move. It's not like I can just go sit with him and start up a conversation. Apparently the world would end if I did said move, just ask Ron. And I can't even go war mode on this issues ass. Me and war mode have had a disagreement, and he's gone away for the holidays. However, he promises to be back in time for the start of term. Can't wait. God I'm such a chicken, it's not like he hasn't made any. He kissed me for Merlins sake and he wouldn't do that out of the blue. It would have been a calculated move. Maybe he's just playing with me for his own sick amusement? No, we will not go down that road again. I don't think the house elves would be able to handle another bout of self-doubts and tears. I swear I went through a month's supply of ice-cream last time it happened. But what the hell would he want with me. It doesn't make sense, and sense is what I do. I deal with logic and rational thoughts. Okay the truth of the matter is, I don't deal with boys. Nope, even that doesn't cover it, I don't deal with men, cause quite frankly Blaise is anything but a boy, he is a man. And a hot one at that. And we're back to the not being good enough stage. God damn it!

I decide, after much deliberation that all sitting in this corridor is achieving, is making me cold and that I should probably get warm, before I get the flu or something. So I get up, after much difficulty, and make my way down towards the Great Hall. It should be almost dinner, and I am quite hungry after skipping lunch today. Too many people being too annoying for my liking. They're all determined to get their work done in the first week of the holidays, so they can rest for the rest. I walk into the hall, and I get several glares. Most are bitter at my freedom. I sit down next to Ron and start piling food onto my plate.

"Hungry Hermione?" All I did was nod, as I decide to try and give Ron a run for his money tonight by stuffing food in my mouth, just for the fun of it. I find my mind wondering away in search of things more interesting than those around me, and when I come out of it, I'm shocked to find that I'm sitting alone. Well to find my friends have abandoned me, but the Hall was still relatively full. After a moment's deliberation I decide to get going, I'm sure I looked quite deranged just sitting here on my own, looking spaced out.

I gather up my things and make to exit the hall, deciding that I was going to head back to my abandoned corridor, for some more thinking and alone time. I needed to start thinking this Blaise thing through properly and the only way I was going to do that, was with quite, time and a hell of a lot of ink and paper. However, I didn't make it that far. I saw him not fifty meters ahead of me and heading in a direction that is certainly not the way to the dungeons. I decide that I would gather up what Gryfindor courage I have and follow him and hope that inspiration would hit somewhere along the way.

Now sneaking has always come somewhat naturally to me. I suppose it was a talent I developed during my time spent walking about the library. No unnecessary noise. However, it was a matter of minutes before I was caught out, because let's face it. He is and always will be, better at sneaking around unnoticed then I or anybody else will.

"Having fun following me Granger?" His voice jumped out at me, as I rounded a corner, not a minute after he did.

"Holy damn Blaise." I exclaimed looking wildly around to find his face. My hand shot to my chest, as if it would protect me from some sort of heart attack. Yep, still beating. , which I was incredibly happy to know.

"Did you have to scare me like that?" Damn, shouldn't have asked that question, because it leaves me right open to.

"Of course, you were following me." He answers. And ding ding ding, ladies and gentlemen that is the correct answer for today. Now I have a few options from here. Deny it outright. Which seems like a complete waste of time to me, and I have a feeling if I do, it's going to take whatever relationship we have formed back at least two steps. And I did not go through what I did, just to get to this point, only to be sent back again. Hermione Granger, doesn't go backwards, no matter what's in front, she aims to always be going forwards. Gain only happens in forward momentum. Another option, is to dance around the question. But I have a feeling that that would be worse. No the only option for me, is to openly acknowledge what I was doing and use it to my advantage.

"That I was."

"Why?" he asks. His face is what he probably thinks is a perfect mask of indifference, but I'm shocked to say that I see differently. His eyes are telling me differently.

"Curiosity." Left eyebrow graces his forehead. He's pleased, it would seem.

"About what?" His lips jerk slightly, as if they're going to smile.

"Well that's what I was following you for. I was curious about what you were doing and you were leading me to my answer." Both eyebrows are now raised. Disbelief.

"Fair enough, so what are you going to do now? Now that I'm not leading you to that particular answer today? He asks. I look around and I'm pleasantly surprised.

"I'm going to sit in my corridor." I respond as I plonk to the floor.

"Your corridor?"

"Yes mine." He looks at me again and nods in acceptance as he sits down across from me.

And now there is silence.

"Want to play twenty questions?"

**Hello everybody. **

**I know it's been forever, but I can't help it. I didn't know where I wanted to go from my last chapter. So many options, it wasn't funny. **

**The result is this chapter, of which I'm not too pleased with. But I think it fits for now. Sort of like foundation, but not really. **

**But tell me what you think. It's a bit different from my other chapters, but I'm still kind of pleased with it. **

**Hermione is mediating on what to do about Blaise, and from here I think I can make this work without deviating her character too much. Wouldn't want her to change herself for him would we. **

**Soooo....**

**Read, Review and Enjoy.**

**Kat**


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